Frogs
by Black Lightning Bulb
Summary: The white board and witty banter.


Disclaimer: I don't own House and Leishmania is a real disease

Frogs

"If I kiss you will you turn back into a frog?" Wilson gibed.

"No, I will stay a charming cripple." House said, crossing mono off the big white board.

Foreman chuckled, "Is there something going on between you two?"

Wilson rolled his eyes. "If I was going to have an affair, I would have it with Cameron, since she actually has boobs and no penis. Speaking of," he said, looking around the conference room, "Where is Cameron?"

"I don't know; I'm not her keeper." House said, crossing off kidney cancer. "None of you are helping me figure out what our patient has. You might as well be making out in the corner of the room."

Chase choked violently on a sip of watered-down coffee.

House shot him a glance. "That's right, you're sensitive to coworkers who make sexual references in the workplace. I'm flattered, really, but let's keep it professional between us. Like Wilson just pointed out, I have no boobs and an extremely large dick. I know that most British men are gay by default, but please."

"I'm Australian." Chase

House raised his eyebrows. "Really? You don't say. Well, they both have those annoying accents."

Foreman snickered.

Wilson sighed deeply. "Well, if it isn't kidney cancer, why am I here?"

"Because you don't want to go home to your wife and I have the keys to my apartment?" House guessed. "Or do you mean that, barring any valid medical reason for you to be here on consult, you are here because without your witty one liners my life has no meaning and every minute without your presence is like an eternity without sunshine, et cetera, et cetera?"

Wilson smiled in a slightly annoyed way. "Just give me the keys."

"No. Like I said: sunshine." He turned to them, a scowl on his face. "What else could it be, people? And where is our allergy expert?"

"Allergy expert, that's what Cameron is? Really? I thought you said she was only chosen for a nice decoration." Wilson said, trying to be annoying if only to get the keys to the apartment.

"Exactly, and looking at your ugly mugs makes me want to puke. I'm allergic to you. I need my allergy specialist." House said, looking back at the white board. "Our patient is going to die. How sad, how tragic, and all because of your lack of creativity. Quite a shame, really."

"The patient has leishmania."

"Ah, Cameron. So nice of you to join us." House said, writing down leishmania on the board. "Is it possible for me to be allergic to Wilson, Foreman, and Chase?"

Cameron rolled her eyes, "At this point you would have built an immunity to them. If anything, they should be allergic to you."

"Leishmania is a disease you can only get out of the country. She's only been to Toronto." Foreman pointed out.

Cameron shook her head. "Her girlfriend has been to Argentina though, and they- do things together."

Chase raised an eye brow, "Like what?"

Wilson shrugged, "They can do a lot of things." All heads in the room turned to Wilson, who said bashfully, "Just another one of the ways I lost my second wife."

"Except it does deal with most of the symptoms." Foreman said.

"The crater like sores, the low red and white cell counts, the kidney failure, enlarged liver, everything." Cameron said, checking off the symptoms on the white board with the marker she had taken from House.

"So what do we do?" House said.

"Start the patient on miltefosine at 100 mg, administered orally. Then once the internal symptoms are dealt with she can go home to deal with the welts." Cameron said, looking like she was trying to suppress a smile.

"Well? What are you all waiting here for?" House said. He made gesturing motions towards the door. "Our patient isn't going to give herself miltefosine. Good work, Dr. Cameron." All three doctors walked out, and House looked over to Wilson feigning mock surprise. "Wilson what are you still doing here? I thought you were going home to make me dinner, darling. The bread-winning cripple can't possibly feed himself."

Wilson ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "You wouldn't give me your keys, House. I'm certainly not making you a meal now. And I pay for the maid."

"You didn't want to fire the maid, there is an amazing difference." House said, moving back to his office. He turned around in the doorway. "Take 'em, and make me dinner. I expect it waiting in the microwave. I also expect it to be pancakes."

Wilson caught the keys, and raised an eyebrow. "Is this your new diet, pancakes?"

"Yes, this frog loves 'em."


End file.
